


there's a feeling screaming in the back of my head

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It scares Brandon in general when the older guys don't have a handle on things. He doesn't like to think of that maybe being him later on.</p><p>Title taken from If Only by Hanson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a feeling screaming in the back of my head

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of requested by [ Betsy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/betsy_borst) and definitely written for her. Thanks for the inspiration doll.
> 
> Takes place the same night as [you, you're hotter than the cherry on a cigarette](http://archiveofourown.org/works/482291) and [ yeah you know i'm right here, i'm not losing you this time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/482395). Can be considered part of the Amaryllis verse though I haven't classified it as such. Yet.

“Thought you were supposed to be sexing Belt or something?”

“Love is in the air.” Brandon shrugs. He'd went to the hotel bar to continue getting boozy, seeing as how Belt had cut him off and left him hanging. Theriot had been hunched over a glass of something amber in a booth so Brandon had gotten a drink of his own and joined him.

Now that he thinks about it, Theriot hasn't looked up at all. And his shoulders are locked up tight. And there's a whiskey smell that's way too strong for that to have been Theriot's first glass, or even his second or third. Now Brandon's worried.

“Not much love if you're down here instead of up there with him.”

“Him and someone else. I'll tell you how it went when I find out.” Brandon answers, hesitating before reaching out and touching Theriot's wrist. “Hey... are you okay?”

Theriot looks up at him and yep, definitely drunk. His eyes are a little bloodshot and his hair is lank and ugh, now that Brandon's leaning closer, dude could use a shower. It's actually pretty scary. It scares Brandon in general when the older guys don't have a handle on things. He doesn't like to think of that maybe being him later on.

He may have impulsively hugged Huff when he came back and gotten a smack for his trouble.

“The wife.”

“Yes?”

“Gone.”

Oh no. Nonono. Brandon can hear a red alert blaring in his brain and an electronic ticker tape scrolls across his vision declaring this dangerous territory. But... it'd be a really dick move of him to run away now. He drains the rest of his whiskey, gasps a little because it's like gargling razor blades and puts the glass down with a thunk that Theriot doesn't seem to notice.

“Gone... where?”

“Home. Took the kids with her. Months ago. Served my lawyer with divorce papers. I thought we could work it out. I was giving her whatever she wanted. But... she still left. And she still wants the divorce. My lawyer fedexed me the papers to sign. Signed them and sent them back to him.” Theriot mumbles, looking up at Brandon with red rimmed eyes. “Should have kept my mouth shut.”

“About what?”

“She... there was this guy. And she told me about it. I got pissed. Like, really angry. Said some things that I can't take back. About how maybe she should just go fuck everybody and she...” Theriot shakes his head, slamming back his own drink and blindly waving a hand for more. When the bartender approaches, Brandon slips him a couple tens and keeps the bottle, placing it between them. “She left me. I tried to apologize. To tell her I didn't mean it and that we could work it out. But she said that things hadn't been right in a long time anyways and that we were fooling ourselves.”

“Was she right?” Brandon asks carefully, holding his hands up when Theriot's gaze snaps up. He's glaring, eyes burning so bright it's terrifying. “I'm not trying to be a douche. But ask yourself man, was she right? Are you fighting for her or for your kids?”

Sometimes Brandon's really glad he reads Dear Abby because those apparently are the right questions to ask, because Theriot crumbles and buries his face in his arms.

“The kids. I can think of not seeing her again and it aches but it doesn't really hurt but when I think of the kids...”

“When you think of the kids, it's like your heart is being ripped out and stomped on.”

Theriot nods into his arms and takes the bottle of whiskey, gulping it down. Brandon wonders if maybe he should take the bottle away but the man is, for the time being anyways, losing his kids. He has no right to interfere. He hesitates, “You'll probably get a good share of custody. She's the one who cheated, right?”

“Right but... it's not fair that she gets it _first_ , just because she's supposedly more fucking stable. So stable she fucks around on her husband. I like dick too but do you see me fucking around? Nooooo!” Theriot howls and okay, yeah, definitely time to cut him off. Brandon takes the bottle, caps it and pushes it away.

“Theriot... hey, look at me. I think you need to stop. This all really sucks but it's still gonna hurt in the morning and a hangover won't help. Time for some rest, huh?” 

He's relieved when Theriot just mutely nods. He lets Theriot try to get up on his own and catches him when he stumbles. Brandon wraps an arm around his waist and pulls an arm over his shoulder, steadying him and guiding him towards the elevator. Fortunately, Theriot is only two doors down from him so he actually knows where they're going.

“Room key?”

The only answer is a grunt and Brandon sighs. It's gonna be one of those kinds of nights. Well, maybe Belt and Penny are having a good night at least. 

Propping Theriot up against the wall, Brandon checks his pockets for the room key and ignores the 'oooh' that that incites. He maps it out one thing at a time. Door, steer Theriot through, kick door shut and herd Theriot into bathroom. When he's sure that the man isn't going to throw up, he sighs and counts to ten. This is the part he's not looking forward to but that he's pretty sure that will make Theriot feel better later.

“Get undressed dude.”

“Stamos wants me naked. Fuck my wife, upgrade!”

That laugh, which Brandon usually thinks sounds nice, now sounds obnoxious. Again he counts to ten, starting the shower before starting to undress Theriot. “You are not getting laid tonight. You're going to take a shower and you are going to drink so much water the travel secretary will want to spank you over the mini bar bill and you're going to take some aspirin. In the morning, you will thank me because instead of feeling completely dead you will only feel mostly dead.”

Theriot doesn't really say anything but he cooperates, getting out of his clothing and into the shower. Handed a washcloth and some soap and given a little direction, he cleans himself up tolerably well. Brandon chances a dash into the room to grab some clean clothes out of the suitcase before scrambling back into the bathroom because the last thing he needs is to be responsible for someone else's concussion. He doesn't like being responsible for his own.

Theriot has managed to shampoo his hair and now he's hanging his head under the shower spray, suds rinsing clean even as Brandon comes back in. He's wet and dripping and under any other circumstances, Brandon would find this sexy as hell. But... no. It's just sadness and dejection and heartache and a million things that make Brandon's eyes sting with tears because nobody should ever look so sad. Nobody should be going through that at all.

“Hey... c'mon. Let's dry you off. You need to sleep.” Brandon says, as gently as he can and Theriot just nods, stepping out and taking a towel.

He dries and dresses himself, rubs the towel over his hair. He lets Brandon steer him into the bedroom and sit him on the bed, obediently takes aspirin and drinks three bottles of water from the mini fridge. The man is moving in a daze, oblivious to everything around him, only taking orders. There's scarcely a response even to Brandon gently pushing him to lay down and pulling the blankets over his body.

Brandon sets the alarm clock and says a quiet good night before slipping out to go back to his room. He calls his wife and he maybe sniffles a little because that's just how he _is_ , but only in front of Jalynne and Belt and Belt's not an option right now. He falls asleep with the sound of Jalynne's soothing voice in his ear.

***

Brandon hasn't spoken to Theriot since he made him take a shower and tucked him into bed.

When you put it that way, it sounds kind of weird.

It's just that he hasn't wanted to be pushy and he doesn't want to bring it up if Theriot doesn't want to talk about it. With Theriot not even looking at Brandon if he doesn't have to, it's pretty fucking clear that he doesn't. It actually kind of hurts but for now, he's reveling in the warmth of a win, stretched out across the couch with his head in his wife's lap and purring when her nails scratch against his scalp.

“So no more baby belt?”

“Nope. Him and Penny are so into each other it's sick.”

“Too bad. You guys were hot together.” Jalynne murmurs. Her eyes are still on Alton Brown on the TV but then she looks down. “Hey. Do you think I still get to kiss him?”

“Probably.”

“So about Theriot.”

“I didn't molest him in the shower.”

“You wanted to.”

“Of course I wanted to. You've seen the guy.”

“So why don't you?”

“Uh...” Brandon blinks at her and starts to sit up before she places a hand on his chest and pins him in place. “Because while I know he's bi, I don't know that he's into me and he's been avoiding me like I have that one thing.”

“The plague.”

“Yeah, that.”

Jalynne smiles, leaning down as much as her stomach will allow and he meets her halfway for the kiss, smiling dopily when she pets his cheek. “He's embarrassed about showing weakness in front of you. He's your friend, show him that it's okay. And if you get laid... well, you'll get to tell me about it later, won't you?”

“I don't deserve you.”

“Not even a little bit.”

***

Finding Theriot's house isn't that hard. Of course, Brandon obtains the address through less than scrupulous means but it's for the greater good, or so he tells himself. He's pretty sure that Theriot won't be at either birthday party. He's friendly enough with everybody but he's not all that close to Sandoval and he's probably not up to the 5th degree he'll get from Papa Bear Vogelsong if he shows up to Cabrera's party all droopy dog.

So. Home. Probably drinking and eating takeout. Maybe destroying what his wife left behind.

He's pleasantly relieved to find that it's neither. The front door is open and all the lights are on when Brandon pulls into the drive, which worries him, but when he announces his presence, Theriot just yells for him to come in and while he's at it, shut and lock the door before he's fucking robbed. He sounds more like himself now.

“... wow.”

Wow is right. The house is pretty bare. Oh, it's fully furnished and the entertainment center is in place. The house is stocked but it doesn't look like anyone lives here. Almost no pictures. No toys scattered everywhere like you'd usually see with a bunch of young children in a house. Just Theriot sitting on his couch and thumbing through what looks like legal papers. Brandon sits on the arm of the couch and he just nods.

“Yeah. She took the pictures and shit. Left me some but a lot of what she left I packed away. I mean, she's in them, I don't want to look at her right now. I'm looking at the papers that mean that she isn't my wife anymore.” Theriot sighs, rubbing his face. But... he doesn't sound heartbroken. Just thoughtful. “Y'know, I don't hate her? You were right. I was trying to save it for the kids but it would have just hurt them in the long run, me and Jo staying together when we didn't really love each other anymore. I just don't want to look at her until it's my turn with the kids. And maybe not even then.”

“Healthy attitude. You sure you're okay, Theriot?”

“Just call me Ryan already, rook. I won't pants you in the clubhouse if you don't call me Theriot or sir.” Ther- Ryan, answers with a rueful smile. “Yeah. And thanks, for the other night. I remember you saying something about waking up dead and I felt like shit but I'm guessing I would have felt worse if you hadn't gotten me all wet and naked.”

Brandon blushes bright red. He can't help himself, because that makes it sound so dirty and he wouldn't mind _being_ dirty with Ryan but he's trying to be a good friend and teammate here damn it. “I uh...”

“Cool it. I'm not going to molest you. Belt and your wife's territory, I know.”

“I told you the other night, Belt's with Penny now. That's why I was making your drunk ass take a shower instead of fucking him stupid.” Brandon drawls. There's a perk of interest on Ryan's face that sparks a warmth in Brandon's gut. It also makes him brave and add, “Y'know, I wouldn't mind if it you did.”

“Not worried you'll be a rebound?”

“I'm a big boy, I'll live.”

“What about your wife?”

“She's good at sharing. If this happens more than once, she'll want to watch. She'll probably kiss you stupid the first time you come to the house.”

“This is fucking insane.”

“This team makes people insane.”

“Are there any straight guys?”

“Cain and Romo that I know for sure. Beyond that, I'm never prepared to make a guess.”

“This is a fucking bad idea.”

But that's a rhetorical because Ryan is climbing to his feet and pulling Brandon into a hard kiss. Brandon doesn't know if he's starved for touching or affection or any other number of things. But it doesn't matter because there are hands everywhere. He gets bruises being pushed into the stair railing and the wall on the way to the bedroom. Their clothes scatter in a line across the bedroom floor.

When Brandon has Ryan pinned into the mattress, fucking him open with sharp snaps of his hips, there's a fire in his eyes that Brandon never saw with Belt. There's a warmth to his touch and an intimacy in the way their bodies move together. The way he kisses Brandon is not the way you kiss the man that you want to fuck your ex-wife's memory out of you. 

Ryan was right. This is a bad idea. And neither of them cares.

Later, when Ryan is curled in facing Brandon, sound asleep with his hand barely short of touching Ryan's hip, he hears his phone vibrating. Cursing under his breath, he stretches a hand towards his jeans on the floor, snagging the belt loops with his fingertips and drawing them close. He gets his phone out barely in time to answer, pressing the phone to his ear and whispering a hello.

“Is he okay?” Jalynne asks, sounding concerned.

“He's asleep.” Brandon murmurs, glancing at Ryan and finding himself sorely tempted to stroke the man's cheek. 

“So you did? Naughty. I hope you've got a good report for me later.”

“I don't know about this J.”

The change in mood is noticeable, even over the phone and there's the slightest bit of tension. “What's wrong baby?”

“I... the way he looked at me. The way he touched me. It's not the way it was with Belt. I don't think this is some sort of fun game to keep busy and blow off steam.”

“It doesn't have to be. If you don't want it to be.”

“Sharing me in bed is one thing.” Brandon says, and his throat is suddenly so so dry. “This-”

“We always said if the right person came along, it would be okay for the both of us. Baby Belt wasn't the right person. Fun was all it was and we all knew that.” Jalynne says gently. “But... if this is something you want to try, if it feels right to you, then we try it. Now hang up on me and be with the person you're with. I love you.”

“Love you too.” 

He puts the phone on the night stand and rests his head back on his arm, staring at the ceiling and chewing on his lip until a sharp, coppery tang floods into his mouth. He doesn't realize he's been overheard until he hears Ryan's rough voice, quiet and so resigned, “You need to go?”

When he rolls onto his side, Ryan's face says everything. He'll give this up because he didn't expect much. For a man who very well might be on the rebound, he seems invested in this and Brandon finds himself thinking that this man has a very strong potential to break his heart. 

“No. But...”

“But?”

“She says you have to share. She says _I_ have to share.”

Ryan looks poleaxed and it makes Brandon laugh.

“Easy slick. Don't freak out. Just... it's all on your terms dude. You can have as much or as little as you want, at your own pace. We're a package deal. Maybe not together all the time but we're part of each other. And... you can be a part of it too. If you want.”

Ryan swallows hard and nods, meeting Brandon's eyes and hesitating before leaning in for a kiss, hand on Brandon's shoulder, “Let me sleep on it?”

“Yeah. Do that.”

He thinks that now he's meant to leave but when he starts to move, Ryan doesn't let go. He keeps their eyes locked before rolling over and turning his back to Brandon. Brandon doesn't hesitate, slides forward and slides an arm around Ryan's waist before dropping a kiss on the warm skin over his shoulder. For one brief moment, Ryan tenses and Brandon wonders if he's done the right thing.

But then Ryan's hand closes over his and squeezes tight.


End file.
